“He’s a nice guy…”

In recent months, I have started to notice that when talking about others it is all too commonplace for us to use brief but wide-sweeping terms to sum up the people we know, and in some instances those we barely know. This, I suppose, is a mechanism we have developed to conveniently bracket people into bite-sized stereotypes. On the one hand it is useful – it allows for the swift dissemination of our opinion of others, to others. On the other, our haste to dismissively package our briefly-thought out opinions into bland adjectives can relieve us of our duty to try and comprehend the nuanced and immensely varied characteristics of our peers.  

I have come to realise how useless and meaningless these attempts to ‘sum up’ a person’s nature are.

When for example, one says: “Dave’s a nice guy,” – to what attribute – or attributes – of the subject’s personality is one referring? Is it his manner: that he comes across as nice guy in conversation? Is it that he is charismatic: that he smiles and is engaging? Or does it draw on deeper, more reflective inferences? Is it that Dave has integrity, is known to follow through on his word, and that that integrity is applied to worthy causes?

Further, there is of course the issue of subjective reflection. Mercifully, and possibly with the exception of the five arguably less problematic ‘personality traits’ psychologists attribute to humans (agreeableness, conscientiousness, extroversion, neuroticism and openness), whether Dave is a nice guy can never be set in stone. By Jill’s standards – and experiences of – Dave, he is a philanthropic charmer. By Stacey’s, he is an adulterous pig. Our identity can never hinge on the opinion of one, or indeed one group of persons’ ideas of us. One might argue that a low-confidence Dave would look in the mirror and see Stacey standing next to him, while a high-confidence Dave would see Jill. But this is beside the point.

To turn briefly to the issue of those to whom we have had very limited exposure, any attempts to shoe-horn their personalities into our cosy little idioms should be met with even hotter scrutiny. In Jim’s eyes, Dave is brash, rude and selfish – he didn’t take a moment to help Jim when he asked him for directions, instead pushing past with a scowl on his face. But in Bob’s eyes, Dave is polite, patient and helpful. Rather than simply giving him directions, Dave walked him all the way to his job interview, and bought him an ice-cream for afters.

Social psychologists refer to this as a fundamental error of attribution: the tendency to over-value dispositional or personality-based explanations for the observed behaviors of others while under-valuing situational explanations for those behaviors (Wikipedia).

I’m not suggesting that we altogether stop ourselves from boxing Dave's and our friends’ complex personalities into meaningless little after thoughts. It can be fun. I’m just asking that in order to consider him in all his multi-faceted, unpigeonholeable glory – which he surely deserves – please spare David a second thought.

A Blog In The Machine...

Recently, I've been desperate to find a way to better populate the scores of free time I find myself burdened with in my office job. I'm not alone in this. By my reckoning - if you're in an office nine to five, or, if you really want to pointlessly impress your indifferent managers, 8.30 to 7 - you'll find yourself with at least a few hours in the day in which to do absolutely nothing.

Nothing, actually, becomes rather addictive. The slight thrill you get from knowing that you're being paid to read the football news; to look loathingly at the Daily Mail's gossip column; to refresh your Facebook page mindlessly, in some quiet hope that an old flame will ping you a lurid invitation - it makes you feel like, that, in some pathetic way, you're levelling the playing field. Surely, this job can't be sucking your soul out of your arse, if there are sky-diving instructors in Hawaii who aren't as up-to-date on the progression of Cheryl Cole's ear cellulite!

The reality, though, is that for ever digital minute that passes on the clock at the bottom right hand side of your screen - to which you do not even have the "Proper Privilege" to change the time - the invisible noose around your neck tightens. It is with this in mind that I have decided to start a blog. A way to pass the time in a less introspective way than simply writing a diary. To anyone who reads it, I hope it transmits one resounding message. You are not alone. And, if you don't relate to the cynicism forthwith, you can't be alone.